


Butterfly Pass Time

by tattoos_n_honey



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Apologies if this is shit, Butterfly Knives, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Knifeplay, M/M, Military Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, do not copy to another site, only slightly, writer is tired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 22:47:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20104858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattoos_n_honey/pseuds/tattoos_n_honey
Summary: John plays with a butterfly knife mindlessly and Sherlock notices.





	Butterfly Pass Time

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired and this took entirely too long to write. Enjoy.

It's not uncommon for Sherlock and John to get gifts after solving a case. Tie pins, watches, books, sometimes food, all kinds of things. That being said, it wasn't a surprise when they had gotten a gift from a teenager after helping him find the boy who had abused his twin sister. It was a sad case, the girl had only just turned eighteen and was in a terrible relationship with a boy a year older named Tyler, or what the client called him, Shit Stain.

"Classy," Sherlock had murmured but accepted the case immediately. They found him three days later attempting to steal his sister away to go to Amsterdam.

"Thank you for helping me, Mr. Holmes," the client, Chase, had told Sherlock as they sat on the couch in the sitting room of 221b. "As I said before, I don't have enough money to pay you-"

Sherlock held up his hand, "And as I indicated then, there is no need. Just keep Jada safe."

Chase nodded and turned to look at the kitchen table where Jada was getting a checkup from John. "I know, but I must thank you somehow, so," He reached into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled out a silver butterfly knife with black wood panelling on the handles, "I got this knife when I turned sixteen, to protect Jada. Obviously, it didn't help but you did. It's only right that you have it to protect others."

The detective looked at the teen as if to double-check if it was alright. He reached out and took the item, weighing it in his right hand. "Thank you, Chase."

***

Weeks had passed since that case, which John had titled _The Stained Relationship_ on his blog - the names changed, of course. Sherlock kept the blade in his desk drawer. He planned to use it in some experiments -for example, how stab wounds differed from blade to blade and others. Until then, he kept it safe, not wanting to ruin it. Sherlock didn't feel the need to tell John about the new weapon.

One night when Sherlock came back from Bart's, he was treated to a sight he had never seen before.

For John - lovely, beautiful, sexy John - was sitting quietly in his chair, reading a book and mindlessly doing tricks with the butterfly knife in his left hand. He turned and looked at Sherlock standing dumbfounded in the doorway. "Oh, hello there," he said nonchalantly, closing the knife without looking and setting it on the armrest. Sherlock swallowed and he toed off his shoes and shed his Belstaff to hang it.

"When did you learn to do that?" was all Sherlock could ask.

John just smiled fondly and said, "We did have some downtime in the army, love." Sherlock nodded and swallowed again. "Sherlock, are you alright?" John asked.

Sherlock gained a bit of composure before saying, "Yes. I'm just a little hot." He lifted his hands delicately and unbuttoned his suit jacket, tossing it onto the sofa. The detective then decided to unbutton his shirt, saying "Did you happen to turn up the heat… _Captain_?"

Now it was John's turn to be shocked. Yes, they've shagged before - hell, for the first week they were _official_ they couldn't keep their hands off each other. And, yes, John knew about Sherlock's military kink. He didn't mind. In fact, John adored how he can make Sherlock crumble with a simple sentence in the right tone. The thing was, Sherlock was mostly submissive when it came to sex. His brain would shut off and John would take control. Afterwards, Sherlock would slowly come back online before passing out.

Though, John wasn't exactly going to complain about a having a consulting detective straddling his lap while throwing his shirt on the floor. John gently placed his hand on his lover's hip, "I guess I did." After placing his forgotten book on the table beside his chair, John threaded the fingers of his right hand into Sherlock's curls and pulled softly. Sherlock let out a small groan. John picked up the butterfly knife in the other hand. He waved it in front of Sherlock's face until he opened his eyes. He then flipped the knife open without blinking.

Sherlock placed his plump lower lip between his teeth and rolled his hips, his bulge pressing against John's growing erection. "Yes," he hissed.

"Tell me," John purred as he brought his face closer, their noses almost touching, "what is it about the knife that you love so much?" The soldier's eyes followed the knife as he gently grazed the flat part of it down the younger man's jaw to his neck. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was the perfect amount of pressure for Sherlock to feel how cold the blade was.

The man let out a small gasp and tried to lean forward for a kiss. John tightened his grip on his hair and pulled back. His lips ghosted over his throat as he continued to run the blade over Sherlock's skin, repeating the question. "It's you," he started, John sucking bruises on his neck, "it's your confidence. The way you - ah - use it so c-casually. Oh, god." Sherlock grabbed the bottom hem of John's shirt and twisted his hands into it.

John released his grip on his boyfriend and leaned back into his chair. "But you called me Captain," He smirked, beginning to mess with the knife again.

"Yes. Yes, I did," Sherlock whispered. He shook his head, attempting to clear the fog from his mind. "You're calm as you play with a weapon. You're not worried about getting cut. It's just all around sexy." John bit his lip in response. Sherlock tugged John's jumper out from where it was tucked. John closed the knife and bit the handle to free his hands so he could undress. Sherlock groaned and started to suck on his neck. John pushed him away, causing Sherlock to pout.

"Bed. Now," he ordered. Sherlock hurried to comply. John followed after him, watching as Sherlock dropped trou on his way to the bedroom. He couldn't stop looking at the perfect arse under those tight black pants. Once they got to the bedroom, John pushed Sherlock onto the bed and climbed over him. Sparks flew when they kissed. They had been together a while, but that didn't stop the fireworks from going off constantly. The younger man moaned loudly, prompting the older man to slip his tongue into the other's mouth. They began to slowly grind their hips together. John pulled back slowly.

Sherlock whimpered as John trailed his lips down his body. The army doctor ran his hands up and down his lover's torso gently. He licked Sherlock's hard left nipple before sucking it into his mouth while he teased the neglected one with his hand. Sherlock bucked up as he reached back to pull at his hair. After dedicating a few more moments to Sherlock's sensitive nipples, John continued his trek south until he reached the other man's pants. He gently pulled them off and threw them across the room in the general direction of the hamper.

He licked the underside of Sherlock's cock as he grabbed the knife from his back pocket. Sherlock's head popped up when he heard the sound of John opening the blade. "Let's play a game, shall we? I'm going to suck you off but I'm going to keep the knife right here," John spoke as he pressed the blade above Sherlock's belly button, "and if you move too much, I'll scratch you. Nothing deep, alright?"

Sherlock panted from his spot on the bed as he spread his legs. "Fuck, yes."

"Safeword?"

"River."

John nodded and leaned back down. He gently wrapped his lips around the head of Sherlock's cock. Sherlock groaned as he fell back on the bed but he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting up into that sweet mouth. John looked up at him and dipped the knife, breaking the skin. A sharp ah! radiated through the room but was immediately followed by a moan. Sherlock willed himself to stay still but another part of him wanted to shake, wanted to thrust harder, wanted to be covered in little marks so he could look down and remember this moment as they healed. "Oh, _John_!" he yelled.

Without warning, John took all of him into his mouth. Sherlock slammed his hands onto the bed and twisted the sheets in fists. "Captain!" he shouted. John bobbed his head quickly, sucking as he pulled up. The brunet bucked again when John ran his tongue over the slit, earning him another cut. A burst of precum hit John's tongue. He moaned around Sherlock's length as he began to rut against the bed in search of friction. Sherlock's toes curled when he began to feel the bottom of the bed shake. The idea of John getting off on this was so damn _good_ that it almost pushed him over the edge. "I'm close. Fuck, I'm cl-" Sherlock groaned as he shifted his hip. John dipped the knife once more before fondling Sherlock's balls with his other hand. Sherlock shouted as he came, his hips thrusting wildly. John swallowed his release quickly.

Once Sherlock started to become oversensitive, John let his cock slide out from his mouth. He closed the knife and put it on the nightstand before sitting back and looking at the man before him. Sherlock was panting as if he had just run a marathon, his skin was a pretty shade of pink, and little pearls of blood were appearing on his belly. John quickly leaned down and licked them clean, Sherlock hissing in response. John sat back once more, "Sorry, sorry, it's just - fuck," he commented before taking his cock from his jeans. He gave it three, four, five quick pulls before ejaculating on Sherlock's spread thighs. "Oh, that's _lovely_," he whispered, looking at his boyfriend. Sherlock rolled his eyes and threw his right hand over his face.

"Just get a flannel," he said as his face grew pink. John did as he was told, leaving to the bathroom. Sherlock heard the tap turn on then off a few moments later. He felt something warm on his thighs, as well as a pair of lips following each stroke. The sound of something opening cause Sherlock to look up. He groaned when he saw John had a box of bandages. "John, I am fine. They aren't that deep."

John simply pecked him on the lips before whispering, "I love you but shut up." Sherlock pouted but allowed John to bandage him up. Once all the aftercare was finished, John undressed and climbed back into bed, pulling a certain consulting detective close to his chest before falling asleep with his head in a bunch of curls.


End file.
